Snow
by TRF
Summary: Bankotsu never liked winter, but he never knew why; after all, some good things DID happen during that accursed season. In the end, though, he found out.


Author's Notes: Well, this is my first Shichinin-tai fic. Deep breath. I hope I got the characterizations right. And if you didn't guess (and I'm sorry if this sounds patronizing in any way), the first part takes place before the forming of the Shichinin-tai, and the last two are both after.

Disclaimer: I don't Inuyasha. Rumiko Takahashi does, lucky woman. I wish I owned the Shichinin-tai, but unfortunately I don't think the rights to them will be auctioned off on Ebay any time soon.

Winter.

Bankotsu had never liked winter. Summer, spring, and fall all had their good points, but winter, in his opinion, had been invented for the sole fact that the big guy upstairs – if he even existed – liked watching him suffer.

"Aniki! Let's have a snowball fight!" that voice belonged to Jakotsu, his sole friend and fellow youkai hunter, who was currently taking a handful of snow and molding it into a rather lopsided ball.

Briefly, Bankotsu wondered why in the world Jakotsu wasn't freezing right now, in his pink yukata and wooden sandals. **He** certainly was, and his clothing covered more, and was definitely more insulating.

Jakotsu looked so happy, though, and Bankotsu stifled his inner cries of protest, putting on a smile and leaning down to grab some snow. "Ok, but don't blame me if you get beaten. _Badly_."

Laughing, Jakotsu threw his snowball at Bankotsu's back before the latter was done making his first one. "If you're that good, aniki, I should get a head start," he said playfully.

"That'll be the only hit you get!" Bankotsu returned, chuckling as he threw his snowball at Jakotsu.

Sometimes, winter wasn't so bad.

----

And sometimes, it wasn't bad at all.

"Are you sure we came from this way?" asked Bankotsu, teeth chattering as he followed behind Jakotsu. During a mission, the two had been separated from the rest of the Shichinin-tai – Jakotsu was sure he knew the way back, but Bankotsu wasn't quite so confident.

"Trust me, oo-aniki. I _know _this is the way," Jakotsu replied. They hadn't walked long after that when they came upon a tangled mess of bodies and blood that was staining the snow crimson. "See? If we follow the slaughter, we'll get back!"

Bankotsu shook his head lightly; not for the first time, he had underestimated his friend too much. "Okay. You wouldn't happen to be able to predict how much longer it'll be before we get back, would you? The cold doesn't suit me," he said, half jokingly.

Jakotsu turned to face him, frowning slightly. "Do you want to rest, oo-aniki? Look's like there's a cave over there."

"Eh? Nah, that's all right," Bankotsu responded. He felt a slight blush creep onto his features – did Jakotsu think he was weak? _'No, stupid, he's just wondering if you need to rest. He knows you don't like winter,' _his inner voice reprimanded him.

"Are you sure? Because I could warm you up, if you know what I mean," Jakotsu said slyly, a smirk on his face.

If his earlier blush hadn't been noticeable, this one was. Jakotsu and he…they were closer than friends, and had been for a few months already. However, the implications of what Jakotsu said still made his face redden. "I…"

"It'll probably be a while before we get back anyway," said Jakotsu, a slightly more serious expression on his face. "We might want to take a rest." After a pause, he added, "Of course, we could do more than that too," and upon seeing Bankotsu turn, if possible, a shade redder, he grinned.

_'We haven't been able to just…relax…much lately,' _Bankotsu thought. "Well…maybe we sh-"

"Great! Come on!" Before the braided man could get in another word, his companion had dragged him off towards the cave.

It was that evening that Bankotsu wondered what he'd ever had against winter.

----

A year later, however, he found out.

A year later, in a lonely northern area called Ushitora, blood once again dyed the snow.

A year later, it was Jakotsu's.

A year later, it was the rest of his friends'.

A year later, it was his.

Wow. I can never write a completely happy one-shot. I don't know why this is beyond me…sweatdrop. I also don't know what exactly inspired this; but then, I never know what inspires my one-shots.


End file.
